


Barefoot

by Penthesilea1623



Category: Mass Effect, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: F/M, Fluff, human feet are fascinating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 11:27:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12275490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penthesilea1623/pseuds/Penthesilea1623
Summary: Jaal Ama Darav has never seen a human foot before. Credence Ryder indulges his curiosity, which only confirms that she's a different kind of Pathfinder than her father.For the Inktober for Writers prompt list.Day 2: Barefoot





	Barefoot

Credence Ryder walked into her quarters on the Tempest, waiting only long enough to hear the door whoosh closed behind her before she flopped face down on her bed.

It had been a long day, even for a Pathfinder. They’d arrived on Havarl, rescued the researchers, found the missing data for that scientist, found more Roekaar than she’d wanted to and biggest surprise while pursuing the Roekaar had stumbled across the Turians, or what was left of them.

She lay there like that for a few moments before she turned over onto her back, staring up at the ceiling, trying to summon the energy to go and take a shower. She wasn’t sure she’d ever been this tired.

You’d think sleeping for 634 years would have … built up reserves or something, but apparently not. She sighed and pushed herself upright, bending down to take off her boots, and socks. For the first time she was tempted to use that code that Kallo had sent her, the one that gave her unlimited hot water.

Tempted, but that would hardly be fair to the rest of the crew. 

Tomorrow they needed to find Thaldyr, to see if she could help them find Akksul. And they needed to find Mithrava, and speak to the Sages, if in fact they, and it were real. The Angara at the research station couldn’t quite seem to agree on that point. And she was fairly sure all of that would involve fighting Roekaar, and Kett, and Remnant, and big crawly creatures that she hadn’t yet learned the names of.

Why couldn’t she get one task at a time, be able to handle them in a neat orderly fashion, the way Dad had always seemed to? Dad had been a list man: everything organized, planned out, carefully plotted. Credence felt like someone had just dumped a waste bin on top of her head and said, okay then, have at it.

She hardly knew where to start, and she still didn’t understand why her father had chosen to transfer SAM over to her instead of Cora. It was supposed to have been Cora. 

SAM spoke inside her head. “Alec had his reasons, Credence.”

She sighed. “So you’ve said, SAM.” Maybe someday she’d unlock all those hidden memories and find out what those reasons were.

As strange as it had been at first, she found SAM’s voice soothing now. She’d grown into the habit of talking to him late at night when she couldn’t sleep for thinking, and SAM, perhaps sensing her loneliness, didn’t seem to mind. It was like having a sleepover every night, she’d joked once: long whispered conversations in the dark, telling him things she’d never shared with anyone not even Scott.

She was fairly certain it wasn’t the way Dad, or Cora, or even Scott if he had been woken first, would have used SAM, but she wasn’t Alec Ryder, or Cora Harper, or Scott, a fact she was sure that everyone regretted to some extent.

Well that was pathetically maudlin and self-indulgent, not to mention entirely unhelpful. She gave herself a good shake.

“Shower and sleep, Ryder. Things are always better when you’re clean and well-rested.” She said out loud and then she laughed. It sounded like something Dad would say. Maybe there was hope for her – and Heleus– yet.

“Credence, Jaal wishes to speak with you.”

Her heart gave a little skip. Jaal wanted to speak to her. Possibly the only thing that could tempt her to postpone her shower and sleep. “Is he in his quarters?” She asked eagerly.

“No, Credence. Jaal is outside your quarters. Shall I let…”

Before he could finish, Credence had run barefoot to the door which opened automatically.

Jaal look startled by her sudden appearance. “Ryder…” he started to say. His eyes travelled the length of her, stopping at her feet. A puzzled frown appeared.

“You wanted speak to me?” She asked, wondering at the frown.

He raised his eyes to her face. “Yes. I spoke with the Moshae, and told her of what we learned about…” His voice trailed off and his eyes went to her feet again.

Now Credence was frowning. “What we learned about…?” She prompted.

His eyes jerked up to hers, and she couldn’t be sure but she thought he looked a little embarrassed. “What we learned of Mithrava. I thought that she might have some knowledge that we could use in our search…” As if he couldn’t help himself his eyes drifted downwards again.

Credence waved a hand in front of his face. “Hello? My eyes are up here Jaal.”

That stopped him looking at her feet, but he seemed more confused than ever. “I know where your eyes are.”

“But you keep looking at my feet.” She pointed out. She looked down at her feet. Ordinary feet. Not dirty, not unusual in any way…

Unless you were an Angara.

“You were looking at my feet.” She said, suddenly understanding.

“They are naked.” Jaal said.

She managed to smile, and not laugh. “Bare.” She corrected.

He frowned. “What is the difference?”

“Naked implies things are exposed that are private. Bare just means…uncovered.” 

He’d seemed to take her acknowledgement of his staring as permission to stare more freely. “And feet are not private for humans?” He asked.

“No. There’s even a word for uncovered feet. Barefoot.”

He chuckled. “Barefoot. You are a very literal people.” He said, not moving his eyes from her feet.

“Sometimes.” She agreed. She wondered what Dad would have done in this situation. Probably not have invited people into his quarters when he was barefoot. 

But she wasn’t her father. So what to do when a seven-foot-tall alien was fascinated by your little human feet?

An idea popped into her head. She thought of her father’s reaction to it and almost immediately dismissed it. And then she remembered what she’d thought earlier: she wasn’t her father.

Her father wasn’t here. And he wasn’t the Pathfinder, not any more.

She was.

She took a deep breath. “Would you like to…” She stopped, trying to choose the right word for the question.

Not see, he was already seeing them.

Asking if he wanted to touch them sounded like a pervy come-on. 

“…examine them?” she finally said. It came out sounding more clinical then she’d intended. 

Jaal gave her an eager look. Surprised but eager. “May I?”

She couldn’t help laughing. “Sure. Come on in.” She walked back into the room and sat on the bed. “Sit.” She told him.

He sat, and looked at her expectantly.

This was one of the weirder things she’d done since their arrival in Heleus, and that was raising a pretty high bar. She scooted back a bit and lifted her leg holding her foot out in front of him. 

He looked at it carefully, from almost every angle, and then reached out a hand but stopped himself.

“Would you like to touch it, Jaal?” She asked. It sounded just as pervy as she’d feared it might, but Jaal didn’t seem to notice.

He reached out and took her foot in his two hands, cradling it delicately. “They are so small.” He said in wonder. “How do you balance your weight on them?”

Credence laughed, “I’m not entirely sure. I think the toes help with that.” Before she say anything more he’d begun exploring her toes, spreading them, moving them back and forth.

“So strange.” He murmured. “Do they move the way your fingers do?”

She shook her head. “No. Pretty much the most we can do is wiggle them.”

He frowned as if the word hadn’t translated. “Wiggle?” He repeated.

She moved her toes back and forth. “Like that.”

He laughed at the sight that hearty boom of a laugh that she’d begun to hear more frequently now that he’d joined her crew. “They are so tiny!” He remarked. “Wiggle. But the wiggling serves no purpose?” He asked, turning to look at her.

“Not that I know of, not any more. Most scientists believe that as humans keep evolving we’ll eventually lose our toes. The pinky toe – the little one at the end, has almost no movement already.”

Jaal held it lightly between two fingers. “Evolution.” He repeated. “Yes. I learned of this at your Cultural Exchange.” He moved his hand so he was holding her foot again and looked up at her. “So, your ancestors had feet that looked like your hands?”

“A long, long time ago.” She agreed.

“It is a very strange concept.”

It was getting awkward sitting with her foot raised like that, and she shifted so she was leaning back on her hands. “The Angara don’t evolve?” She asked.

He gave a small shrug lowering her foot to his lap, but not releasing it. “As far as I know the Angara have always been as we are now.” He was staring at her foot again and began running his thumb (if that was what the Angara called them) over the top of it, almost idly, the softest of touches, that was beginning to make her heart beat a little faster. 

She wondered what the Angaran word for foot fetish was, or if they would have to invent one, because she was becoming increasingly certain that Jaal was coming close to having one.

Or giving her one.

Talk about a cultural exchange.

She almost laughed out loud, but then she thought of something. She sat up straighter. “Didn’t you say that since the Scourge came the Angara have changed? That you can tolerate the cold on Voeld, in a way you couldn’t at first?”

“We have adapted.” Jaal said as if it were obvious, and then he blinked at looked back at the foot he still held. “Adaptation.” He said slowly. “Is that what your ‘evolution’ is?”

She nodded. “Gradual changes, adaptations over thousands or millions of years.”

He turned her foot over in his hand, still caressing it, still holding it as carefully as if it were one of the artifacts in the museum on Aya. “Fascinating. The Moshae would be very interested, and far more able to understand it, I think.”

“And we have scientists who would be far better at explaining it than I am.”

Jaal moved his fingers to the underside of his foot, still caressing, and she squealed, jerking her foot out of his hands, losing her balance and falling backwards onto the bed.

“Credence!” Jaal called out leaning over her. “I am sorry. “

“No. I’m fine.” She hastened to reassure him. He’d called her Credence.

“Did I hurt you?” He asked in concern.

“No, not at all. I’m ticklish.”

He looked at her blankly.

Another word that didn’t translate. She pushed herself up again. “We – humans – some of us have areas that are…sensitive when touched.” She felt herself blushing and wondered if everything she said tonight was going to sound vaguely sexual, if Jaal would notice, or if it was just her.

He was frowning at her. “But it does not hurt you?”

“No.” She admitted. “Tickling makes you laugh most of the time.”

“It makes you laugh? Why?”

“I don’t know.” She admitted sheepishly. “It just does.”

Jaal seemed to consider it. “And the bottom of your feet is one of these areas? There are more?”

She nodded. “The ribs for some people, or the stomach. Sometimes the neck. Different people are ticklish in different places. Some aren’t ticklish at all.” Like Scott, which had always seemed entirely unfair to her when they were growing up.

“But you are ticklish.” Jaal said as if to confirm it.

“Oh, yes.”

“On the bottom of your feet?” He asked carefully.

“Yes.”

He looked down at her feet again, and when he looked up there was a question in his eyes.

 _Oh, crap_. “The things I do for science.” She muttered and raised her foot again.

Dad would definitely never have found himself in this position, figuratively or literally.

Jaal held her foot in one hand and looking at her instead of her foot for once, tentatively ran a finger down the sole of it

She squirmed, letting out a squeak that she was pretty sure would have lost her the job of Pathfinder if Addison had heard it.

Jaal laughed and repeated the motion a little more firmly, resulting in more squirming and a very undignified snort on her part

And then Jaal shifted, kneeling on the bed, so he was looming over her, and tickling her relentlessly until she was thrashing around, laughing until tears were running down her face, and Jaal was laughing too, which only made her laugh more. 

“What the…”

They both turned to find Liam standing in the open door, a cup of coffee in his hand. 

Jaal lowered Credence’s foot to the bed, and stood, smiling down at her. “Thank you, Ryder.”

She was still laughing weakly. “You’re welcome, Jaal.”

He turned and walked towards the door.

“Uh, hello? Still waiting for an explanation here.” Liam said as Jaal walked past him.

Jaal turned to him with great dignity. “The Pathfinder,” he announced. “Is ticklish.” He continued on his way without saying anything more.

Credence scrambled to her feet as Liam walked up to the bed. “What was that?” He asked, pointing to Jaal’s retreating figure.

Credence could feel her cheeks growing hot. “Jaal had some questions. About feet.” It sounded lame even to her.

Liam crossed his arms. “Playing footsie with our new Allies, Ryder? What would Tan say?”

“He was curious.” Credence murmured she walked over to the door and watched Jaal walk away.

Liam looked at her in disbelief. “Yeah, well when he gets curious about breasts you might want to make sure the doors to your quarters are closed.”

He thought that would get a rise out of her, but when he glanced at her she was staring after Jaal with a smile that could only be described as hopeful. He made a tsk-ing sound and shook his head. “Credence Ryder. You little hussy, you.”

The guilty look on her face said it all and Liam started to laugh. He was still laughing as Credence pushed him out the door and it whooshed closed behind him.

Liam walked off in search of Jaal, a grin still on his face. Time to find out how the Angara responded to teasing.


End file.
